


He Followed Me Home

by notastranger



Series: The Adventures of Charlie and Scientist [1]
Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Alcohol, Armitage Shanks, Cuddles, Drunkenness, Fluff and Crack, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Nonsexual Ageplay, alcohol-related puking (not graphic), frequent mention of illegal drug use, huffing, which should not surprise anybody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:16:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notastranger/pseuds/notastranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie receives more intelligence pills from the Scientist, who wants nothing in return.</p><p>(Or does he?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Charlie asks for more pills

**Author's Note:**

> I only have the vaguest of notions of where I'm going with this. I'll tag accordingly as things happen.

Charlie hadn't meant to follow the scientist all the way back to his apartment. His plan was to wait outside the entrance to his lab and talk to him there, but he was wrapped up in a really good round of Candy Crush on his phone (he'd get out of Candy Town one of these days!) and by the time he looked up, the man was already down the hall and nearly out of the building.

So he caught up to him, but the scientist had run into one of his nerd buddies and they were chatting up a storm. Normally Charlie wouldn't hesitate to interrupt a conversation, but he wanted to talk to the scientist in private. So he followed them as quietly as he could and eventually the other nerd took off. But by then it was like a game -- how long could he walk right behind the scientist without being noticed?

About fifteen minutes, it turned out. That's how long it took to get to Scientist's apartment building and into the lobby, five minutes longer than it took the Waitress to notice him, but she was usually expecting him since he followed her home all the time.

Scientist, meanwhile, was totally oblivious. Charlie imagined how easy it would be to lunge forward and break his neck, or reach out and tickle him, or even give him a big hug. Scientist was clearly thinking some super important thoughts if he didn't even notice Charlie standing right there.

"Hey," Charlie said finally, because Scientist had started to open his door and he really did need to talk to him.

Scientist jumped and nearly dropped his keys.

"I know, what a coincidence to run into you," Charlie said cheerfully to smooth over any embarrassment Scientist must feel about not having noticed him until now. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Scientist held his keys to his chest and peered at Charlie critically.

"So, yeah, I know the experiment is over and your pills didn't make me smart like you had hoped but I still sorta think that I got a little bit smarter, so I was wondering if I could do the experiment again?"

Scientist blinked. "Mister... Kelly, correct?" Charlie nodded enthusiastically and Scientist exhaled quietly. "Mister Kelly, we are no longer running trials for that particular drug."

"Yeah, but you've got more pills or something, right? You guys always keep an extra supply in case of emergencies. So, um, you could just give me more pills and then--"

"Young man, I cannot give you any more of those pills, and they most certainly did not improve your intelligence." Scientist gave him a stern shake of his head and turned back to his open door.

"Wait!" This wasn't going the way Charlie had practiced in his head and he was starting to feel a little desperate, like he had run out of beer before even getting a buzz. "Look, maybe they didn't make me smarter, but I _thought_ I was smarter! And so did my friends and for once I got to do cool stuff instead of Charlie work!"

"'Charlie work'?" Scientist repeated.

"Yeah, you know, the stuff no one else wants to do so you do it because you know you're good at it but you'd rather be doing something else!" He made a frustrated sound and ran his hands through his hair. "Like-- Like let's say the other scientists made you spend all day cleaning test tubes and ironing lab coats while they got to do all the cool science stuff. Wouldn't you take a pill that let you do the cool stuff, too?"

Scientist stared at him for a while before pursing his lips together and exhaling sharply out his nose. "Wait here," he said in that British accent that made everything sound way cooler and more important. Charlie wished he had an accent, too.

Then Scientist went into his apartment and after a couple of minutes came back out and handed Charlie a bottle of pills. "Take one a day, with water."

Charlie peered at the bottle. The label was partially torn off -- he could make out the number 40 and what looked like the word 'happy'. The pills were small and white and looked nothing like the ones he had taken for the experiment. "These aren't the same pills."

"Ah-- no. It's a modified formula. It has a more subtle effect."

"Ohhh." Charlie grinned knowingly and winked. "I gotcha, Doc. Personal stash. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"That's right, Mister Kelly." Scientist peered down at Charlie meaningfully. "You must not tell _anyone_ you are taking these pills. It will be our secret."

Charlie nodded quickly and pocketed the bottle. "Sure thing. And thanks. I really appreciate it. If there's anything you need me to do, like some Charlie work or if you have rats that need bashing--"

"I'm fine, thank you." Scientist smiled politely. "Good day, Mister Kelly."

"Good day!" Charlie echoed, because it sounded like something a smart person would say, except without the British accent it didn't sound smart at all. Even so, Scientist's smile brightened a little. He nodded once before going into his apartment and shutting the door.


	2. Charlie shows off his notation skills

Three days later, Charlie was standing outside Scientist’s door once more. He didn’t follow the other guy home this time because he lost a bet with Mac over whether narwhals were real and had to re-stock the bar by himself, so it was pretty late when he finally made it over to the guy’s apartment.

He knocked on the door twice and bounced in place, high on floor polish and intellectual excitement. He hoped Scientist was home – he wouldn’t still be at the lab doing science, right? And nerds did not stay out and party, either, even classy ones who wore nice shirts and ties.

Charlie knocked again, just to be sure, and then again for luck, and then again to see how loudly he could knock, and _finally_ the door opened so quickly that he almost slammed his knuckles into Scientist’s pajama-covered chest.

“ _What_?” Scientist demanded, eyes groggy from interrupted sleep. He focused on Charlie and his disgruntled expression softened. “Mr. Kelly, what are you doing here?”

“Good evening,” Charlie replied, because that seemed the proper way to introduce himself. “I am here to discuss science with you.”

Scientist looked at him blankly. “It’s one in the morning.”

Whoops, a little later than Charlie thought. He probably should have cleaned the floor with a mop and not a hand-scrubber so he could inhale all that lemony goodness. “Oh… um, were you sleeping? I can wait out here for a few hours…”

Scientist sighed tiredly and gestured for Charlie to step inside. “No, it’s fine, I’m up now. What’s so urgent that you needed to talk to me?”

Charlie bounded into the apartment and took a good look around. So this is what an intelligent person’s living room looked like, hmm? Kind of boring, but maybe he could learn to appreciate it in time. “Everything! I thought you’d want to know how the pills are working.” He flopped onto a comfy chair and propped his feet up on the coffee table. “You’ve really improved on the formula, by the way. No side effects this time and they even taste like candy.”

Scientist shut the door behind him and smoothed back his disheveled hair. “That’s good to hear, Mr. Kelly. Please, no shoes on the coffee table.”

“I took some notes, too.” Charlie pulled out a folded packet of paper from his jacket pocket and held it out to Scientist. “I haven’t learned another language or anything fancy like that, but I can do an advanced search on Google now. Did you know that narwhals are real?”

Scientist walked over and took the papers with one hand. The other he pressed firmly on Charlie’s shins. “Mr. Kelly. No shoes on the coffee table.”

Charlie lowered his legs obligingly. “Sorry, Doc. And you can call me Charlie.”

Scientist awkwardly patted Charlie’s knee. “It’s fine, Charlie. Just be more careful next time, hmm?” He straightened up and unfolded the papers.

Charlie watched Scientist read over his findings, but the other man was squinting an awful lot and shaking his head. “My handwriting isn’t the greatest,” Charlie admitted. _Please don’t say I’m illiterate_ , he thought to himself. He hated when people pointed that out. He wrote stuff down all the time! It wasn’t his fault nobody could understand him.

“I thought Tang-See was joking,” Scientist muttered to himself before looking down at Charlie. “Do you read at all, in addition to— to writing?”

Charlie sunk in his seat and didn’t answer. Of course he read. Read what he could, anyway. He was suddenly, painfully aware of how _stupid_ he was, which was ironic, considering he was taking intelligence pills.

Or maybe it wasn’t ironic. What was ironic, again? Rain on your wedding day?

Scientist sat down in a chair next to him, and patted his knee again. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, if you have any problems reading or writing. The American educational system is positively wretched and has failed many.” He refolded the notes. “May I keep these? I’ll look at them after I’ve had a good night’s rest.”

Charlie felt better. Scientist wasn’t calling him an idiot, at least. “Sure thing, Doc.” He sat up a little. “When did you want to talk about them? Tomorrow?”

Scientist looked away, hesitant. It reminded Charlie of a nervous lizard. “You know, you – you don’t have to come to me to discuss your intellectual pursuits. What about those odd people who came to our presentation?”

“My friends?” Charlie puffed out a dismissive burst of air. “You told me not to tell anyone I was taking pills again, remember? And I’m great at keeping secrets, I’ve never told anyone about how Mac cries whenever he watches _The Lion King_ , for example.”

“Until now,” Scientist interjected.

“Right, exactly. So I have to keep doing Charlie work and pretending I’m dumb so no one will find out. And anyway, you’re the smartest guy I know, so why wouldn’t I want to talk about smart things with you?”

The tips of Scientist’s ears turned red. Charlie wondered if he was cold. “All right then, Charlie. We can meet once a week to discuss your… progress. How are Saturday evenings for you?”

Charlie snorted. “Saturday is prime date night. The Waitress might want to do something.” Scientist stared at him levelly and Charlie sighed. “Yeah, okay, Saturday.”

“And a more reasonable time, _please_.”

“Okay, okay. I can come by at eight. Is that early enough for you?”

“It’s perfect.” Scientist smiled briefly before stifling a yawn.

Charlie hopped out of his seat. “Hey, I can take a hint. I should get some sleep, too.” Or something. Frank was probably hogging the whole bed by now. “I’ll see you this Saturday at eight?”

“Yes.” Scientist rose to his feet and opened the door for Charlie. “See you then. Goodnight.”

“’Night,” Charlie replied. He headed down the hallway, but didn’t hear Scientist’s door shut until he turned the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I futzed with the tags a little. Also, a shout-out to charliekelly-rp.tumblr.com for the narwhals ref. :)


	3. Charlie stays for dinner

The gang did not ask Charlie to go with them to the movies Saturday night, probably because he was busy burning garbage in Paddy’s furnace and Dee claimed the smell was making her eyeliner melt. Charlie wanted to reply that it would be an improvement on her looks, but Dennis beat her to it, and anyway it was easier to just keep quiet and finish his chores. What did he care about seeing the actress from _Speed_ floating around in space? He was going to get to talk about _real_ science.

Scientist answered the door wearing a shirt and a tie _and_ an apron and Charlie felt weirdly underdressed. “Hello, Charlie,” he smiled, stepping back and letting the smaller man enter. “I’m having a late dinner, would you like to join me? Or have you already eaten?”

The smell of cooked food assaulted Charlie’s nose – when _was_ the last time he had eaten? His stomach growled loudly enough that he didn’t need to answer.

“It’s quite all right. I always cook too much for myself.” Scientist walked to the kitchen, Charlie following like an obedient puppy. The kitchen was small, but clean, and had just enough space for a table for two. Resting on the counter was a casserole dish of—

Holy shit, was that homemade mac ‘n cheese?

“Dude.” Charlie pointed to dish. “You _made_ that?”

“It isn’t a very difficult recipe,” Scientist replied, but he seemed pleased by the compliment. He pulled out two plates from a cabinet and then scrunched up his nose, as if smelling something bad. “Charlie, what was it you were doing before you came over?”

“Burning garbage,” Charlie shrugged.

The plates clanked together unpleasantly as Scientist set them down. “Why were you burning garbage?”

“Because I’d rather make more stars than just let trash sit in a landfill for millions of years.” God, why did he need to keep explaining this? “Doesn’t it make global warming worse to have all that garbage lying around?”

Scientist opened his mouth and hesitated. “You think—“

Charlie scoffed. “Doc, don’t tell me you don’t believe in global warming. There’s a giant body of evidence to support—“

Scientist shook his head. “No, that’s – that’s very pro-active of you, Charlie, to want to help the environment.”

Charlie beamed.

“But perhaps you should wash your hands before we eat? Since you’ve been handling garbage.”

Oh. Charlie looked down at his hands speculatively. They didn’t _look_ dirty. “I wasn’t handling the _actual_ trash, just the bags.” Although one of them had spilled open because of a tear along the bottom… damn rats always getting into things.

“Still, it’s good manners to wash your hands before you eat.” Scientist walked over to the sink and turned on the water. “Here, I’ll go first.”

Charlie still didn’t see the point, but the smell of the cheesy noodle dish was intoxicating. He’d humor Scientist this one time.

Scientist pumped soap into his hands and scrubbed them together thoroughly. It looked like overkill to Charlie. “What have you been doing that you need to wash your hands like that?” he asked, wandering over to the sink.

“Just habit.” Scientist rubbed the soap along the edges of his nails before rinsing his hands under the water. “I spent many years handling rats at university.” He dried his hands on a kitchen towel and gestured at the still-running water. “Your turn.”

Charlie placed his hands in the lukewarm water, a much more comfortable temperature than the freezing cold or boiling hot of his apartment’s sink. Before he could ask, Scientist picked up the hand-soap dispenser and squirted some into his hands. It smelled good – kind of fruity, but he had a feeling a classy nerd wouldn’t use plain soap.

It took real effort to not just rinse his hands off immediately; he tried scrubbing them together as Scientist had and after several seconds the taller man nodded slightly in approval, grabbing the towel and offering it to him once the last of the suds went down the drain.

“Now, then, have a seat. I want to hear more about your theory of star creation.”

~*~

The mac ‘n cheese was delicious; Charlie tried not to gorge himself, and by the end of the meal was only uncomfortably full instead of bloated. It helped that Scientist asked him a lot of questions, generally interested in whatever he had to say. And also, there was no booze with dinner – well, there was white wine, but that didn’t count as booze, no when you needed to drink at least a bottle of the stuff to feel any sort of buzz. It would have been easier to get high on the hand soap.

Charlie picked up the dishes without asking and washed them. Scientist started to protest but Charlie waved him off. “It’s cool, I do this all the time at the bar. Well, glasses more than plates, but you know what I mean.”

Scientist watched him with a soft, confused frown. It made Charlie feel funny – he placed everything in the dish rack instead of drying them by hand.

Then they went into the living room and talked about science some more – mostly astronomy, but Charlie had some notes about magnets, too. It turned out he knew very little about astronomy – big surprise there – but Scientist was happy to fill him in. Who knew there was a nuclear reactor in the heart of every star? Too bad they couldn’t harness that power for Earth…

When Scientist glanced at his watch and announced it was after eleven, he seemed as surprised as Charlie at how much time had passed. “I have a book you may be interested in,” he said as Charlie got up to leave. “Give me a moment to fetch it.”

It was a book about space – heavy on photographs and light on words, which Charlie secretly appreciated. “If you’re interested, I’ll try to find other books on the subject.”

“Thanks, Doc.” The gang was probably at Paddy’s by now, talking about the movie. He’d keep the book in the back room for safe-keeping. “I’ll see you again next week?”

Scientist nodded and smiled. He had been smiling a lot that night – must have been the wine. “Yes, I—I look forward to it.”

Charlie left the apartment, flipping through the book. The pictures in it were way cooler than some movie, and surely he could learn something. Even if he couldn’t, Scientist thought he could. That was oddly as comforting as the pills.


	4. Charlie makes a new friend

Dinner on Saturdays became a regular occurrence. Charlie wondered why Scientist didn’t try eating earlier in the evening. Maybe it was a British thing to eat at eight? Well, he certainly wasn’t going to complain – free food was free food and Scientist liked to cook with cheese so that was a nice bonus.

Scientist also lent him more books. They were large and full of colorful pictures, much easier to read than the textbooks he occasionally picked through. He sometimes stumbled over a word (or a whole phrase), but Scientist just told him to write down anything he didn’t understand and they’d figure it out together.

The gang did not generally miss him on Saturdays, and when they did, Charlie told them he was working on a new musical, which he had wanted to do for a while, anyway. He just needed to think of a subject that would impress the Waitress. The epic struggle of good versus evil didn’t do it for her, and neither did spiders. Maybe something about cute animals? Chicks dug cute animals.

He didn’t feel like singing about puppies, though, or kittens. Or… well, that’s where his knowledge of cute animals ran out. Maybe Scientist had a book about animals he could leaf through for inspiration.

The question was on the tip of the tongue when he entered Scientist’s apartment, but he stopped short at the sight of an aquarium tank on the coffee table, a large white rat scurrying about inside.

“What is _that_ doing there?” Charlie asked, too shocked to hide his disgust.

“That’s Armitage Shanks,” Scientist replied, his mouth twisting into a nervous line. “He was in the lab when you volunteered for my study, remember?”

“Yeah, but why is it here and not in your lab?” Charlie absently scanned the room for a heavy object, something blunt and convenient for a good bashing.

Scientist scurried over to the tank and hovered beside it protectively. “They cancelled the experiment and were going to euthanize him. He’s my pet now.”

Charlie snorted: a pet _rat_. “C’mon, Doc, that’s crazy talk. Rats are filthy! You can’t keep one in your apartment, even with all your fancy hand washing—“

“They’re only filthy because of their environment,” Scientist interrupted. He frowned sternly. “Is this going to be a problem, Charlie?”

Charlie looked down at his feet. He had a good thing going on here, he wasn’t going to throw it away, even if having a pet rat was really… eccentric. That was the word. A nice way of saying “weird.”

“No,” he finally muttered. “It’s your apartment, dude.”

“Good.” Scientist exhaled, his posture relaxing. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, though. I can put him in another room while you’re here.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Better to keep an eye on it while he was here in case it decided to cause trouble after all.

Scientist smiled. “Okay, then. I’ll check on dinner. Make yourself comfortable.”

Charlie sat down on the edge of the couch and leaned forward, elbows on knees, to get a better look at the newest addition to Scientist’s home. That rat didn’t _look_ filthy, at least. Its fur was white and sleek and its pink eyes weren’t as beady as those shiny, dead ones he often stared down in Paddy’s basement.

The rat stood up on its haunches and wiggled its whiskers at Charlie, as if sniffing him through the glass. Charlie grinned a little. “Hey there,” he whispered. “You’re a lucky bastard, you know that?”

Scientist returned from the kitchen. “Would you like to give him a treat?” he asked, sitting beside Charlie on the couch and offering a small cube of cheese.

It must have been obvious from Charlie’s expression that he’d rather have the cheese for himself because Scientist laughed. “There’s some for you in the kitchen. Shanks shouldn’t have more than just a little bit, anyway.”

Charlie looked over at the rat again; it was practically on tiptoe now, little pink forepaws splayed on the glass. “Okay. He really wants it, huh.”

Scientist placed the cube of cheese onto Charlie’s palm and popped off the aquarium lid. “He’s been trained to go after cheese his entire life,” he explained, reaching into the tank and picking up the rat without any fuss. The rat crawled up his forearm and sat comfortably in the crook of his elbow. “And it’s his favorite.”

Charlie tentatively held out the cheese, startling a little when the rat snatched it away. “Does he ever bite?” he asked, watching in fascination as the rat delicately nibbled its treat, tiny paws holding the cheese just as a person would.

“No… well, I suppose if he felt threatened, he might, but he is very tame otherwise.” Scientist smiled fondly and gently rubbed behind the rat’s ears while it ate. “You can pet him if you like.”

“No, thanks.” Charlie sat on his hands and wondered if the rat would make an exception to its no biting policy, somehow sensing that he had killed thousands of its distant relations over the years.

The rat finished its treat and carefully combed through its whiskers, cleaning off any remaining crumbs. Okay, Charlie admitted silently, that was kind of cute. Huh. Maybe he should write a musical about rats.

A timer in the kitchen beeped.  “Oh, that would be dinner.” Scientist gently returned the rat to its tank and replaced the lid. “Come on, let’s wash up.”

He patted Charlie’s knee once before standing and heading to the kitchen. Charlie paused long enough to whisper, “I get to eat more cheese than you do,” to the rat before joining him.


	5. Charlie shows up late

Charlie was having a shitty week.

He was stuck closing Paddy’s four nights in a row, which meant extra disgusting floors and toilets. Dee and Dennis, in a rare display of sibling harmony, tricked him into getting up extra early to film one of Dee’s dumb character sketches (“She’s _Lithuanian,_ Charlie, not Russian. Can’t you tell by the facial hair?”). He returned home, exhausted, only to find that Frank had thrown out his favorite pillow, the one that smelled like bread and crinkled when he hugged it.

But the worst was when he finally found time to visit the coffee shop and the Waitress didn’t even notice him – no glare, no hiss to get out, not even a reminder about the restraining order. It was like he didn’t even exist.

When Charlie had bad weeks like this, weeks in which he felt ignored and forgotten and unloved, he retreated to his world of music. (And inhalants.)  Shades drawn and candles lit, he worked laboriously on a song, intermittently pressing on the nozzle of his sock-covered paint aerosol and breathing in the fumes.

He didn’t make much progress with his musical about rats, but the dizzy, floating feeling from the spray paint helped ease his loneliness as he faded in and out of the moment, time slowing to a crawl and sparkles of light dancing at the edge of his vision.

When he finally came back to himself, the candle had burned out and his keyboard was running in demo mode. He glanced at the clock and jolted off the couch in shock.

Shit, he was going to be late for his dinner with Scientist! His remaining high soured into worry and guilt as he grabbed his jacket and darted out the door.

By the time he made it to the other man’s apartment, it was half-past nine. Charlie knocked on the door and tried to ignore the river of sweat pouring down his back. _Shit_. Scientist was going to be mad at him, he wouldn’t invite him over anymore to talk about science and feed treats to Armitage and work on puzzles together –

Scientist answered the door with a frown, as Charlie predicted, but he seemed more worried than angry. “Charlie! You’re all right?” His narrow shoulders sagged in relief. “I thought something had happened to you.”

“Nah, I’m okay.” Charlie laughed nervously. “I mean, something had happened, obviously, or I wouldn’t be late, I wouldn’t blow you off like that.”

Scientist’s frown returned. “Why do you have silver paint on your nose?”

Charlie raised a hand to his face. _Shit_. “I, uh, we were redecorating at Paddy’s so—“

“Were you huffing paint, Charlie?”

“What? Pfft, no.” Charlie rolled his eyes and tucked his hands into his pockets, but he knew his lie was weak. The look on Scientist’s face made him want to hide under the carpet.

“Well, then,” Scientist sighed, and ushered Charlie in. “Dinner is gone cold but I can re-heat it if you are still hungry. But first, how are we going to go about removing the paint from your face?”

“Do you have any nail polish remover?” Charlie asked hopefully.

“No, but… let me look for something equivalent. Why don’t you try washing off what you can in the bathroom.”

“Sure thing, Doc.” Charlie waited until he was in the bathroom to slip out of his jacket, embarrassed by his sweat stains. He lathered up his hands, which were also stained with paint, and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink.

His nose and upper lip were completely covered in shiny silver paint. “You are so stupid,” he told his reflection.

Scientist appeared in the doorway holding a small metal tin. “I have some turpentine left over from one of my projects. That should get the paint off.”

“Okay.” Charlie finished washing as best he could and reached for the tin, but Scientist shook his head.

“I’ll take care of it. Sit.”

The toilet (with lid down) was mildly more appealing than the bathtub edge. Charlie waited patiently while Scientist pulled out a bag of cotton balls from the cabinet under the sink. He opened the tin and dabbed some turpentine onto a cotton ball.

“C’mon, Doc, I can do this,” Charlie whined, reaching for the cotton ball, but Scientist batted his hand away.

“Turpentine is much more powerful than nail polish remover. Let me handle it.”

Charlie sighed but didn’t bother protesting again. He sat still while Scientist swept the soft cotton down his nose and along the side with a gentle precision, pressing just hard enough to remove the paint.

One cotton ball wasn’t enough, and Charlie began to fidget. Scientist reached up with his free hand to steady Charlie’s chin. “Hold still,” he murmured, as he continued to clean.

Scientist’s hand was warm, and that combined with the smell of turpentine and the soft stroking put Charlie in a relaxed, sleepy state. It was almost like getting high again, and he inhaled deeply to savor the sensation.

“Charlie.” Scientist’s sharp tone broke his reverie. “Are you huffing the turpentine?”

“Um… maybe?”

Scientist pressed his thin lips together and dropped his hands. “Out of the bathroom,” he commanded in that same stern tone.

“What?” Charlie squawked, but he did as he was told, worried once again that Scientist was going to kick him out of the apartment.

Scientist followed close behind, herding Charlie into the living room and over to a window. “You are going to sit right here,” he demanded, unlocking the window and sliding it up with a grunt. “Until that horrible smell has dispersed.”

“But there isn’t a—“ Charlie’s protest died in his throat as Scientist darted into the kitchen and returned with a chair.

“Here. _Sit_.” He disappeared into the kitchen again, this time returning with a fan. He set it on a decorative end table and turned it on, aiming it at Charlie’s face.

“Isn’t that a bit of overkill?” Charlie complained, even as he sat down.

“No it is not,” Scientist snapped. “You have been filling your lungs with toxic chemicals and depriving your brain of oxygen.”

“So?” Charlie countered, feeling peevish and tiny.

“So you are going to kill yourself if you keep that sort of thing up! I want you to stop huffing immediately.”

“Hey, don’t tell me what to do!” Charlie screeched. “You’d huff too if you’ve had the week I’ve been having!”

“That isn’t an excuse! You need to stop.”

“Give me one good reason why –“

“The pills won’t work if you huff!” Scientist shouted over Charlie. “They’ll stop working and you’ll never be smarter and we won’t be able to discuss science together!”

Charlie fell silent, stunned. The only sounds were the fan lazily oscillating back and forth and Scientist practically panting from his outburst.

“…really?” Charlie finally asked.

Scientist nodded hurriedly. “Yes,” he replied, smoothing his hair back with his hands and trying to regain his composure. “So you need to stop.”

Charlie picked at a loose thread on his shirt. “It’s kinda hard to quit, Doc. I feel sad, or get bored, and—“

“Charlie, listen.” Scientist placed a hand Charlie’s shoulder and crouched a bit so he could look the smaller man in the eye. “If you feel like you want to huff, you can visit me instead, okay? We’ll do something so you won’t feel bored. Or sad.”

“Are you serious?” Charlie looked into Scientist’s eyes. He certainly looked serious. And maybe a little desperate. “Any time, I can come visit you? What if… what if you aren’t at home? What if you’re in your lab or teaching class—“

“Then you can sit in the back and read until I’m done.”

Charlie felt an unusual pang of guilt in his gut. “I have to tell you, dude, you’re probably making a huge mistake here, giving me permission to visit you whenever I want.”

“That’s fine.” Scientist squeezed his shoulder before letting go and straightening up. “I just want to help you take better care of yourself.”

“Um. Ok.” Charlie wasn’t sure what to say. No one had told him that he could pop over unannounced before. “Thanks.”

~*~

Scientist reheated dinner while Charlie sat by the window. The combination of the fan and the chill air outside gave him the shivers, but he didn’t dare leave his spot. He took deep breaths of chemical-free air and rubbed his hands together.

“Dinner is ready,” Scientist announced, returning to the living room. His mouth opened into a sad ‘o’ shape. “Are you cold?”

“A little,” Charlie admitted with a sniffle.

Scientist grabbed a blanket from the couch and draped it over Charlie’s shoulders. “There, is that better?”

Scientist’s warm hands fussing over him felt as good as the blanket. “Yeah.”

Scientist twitched his nose a little as he smelled the air. It reminded Charlie of Armitage and he smiled at the thought. “Well, I think the worst of it is gone. You can get up now.”

Charlie stood, securing the blanket with one hand so it wouldn’t slide off. “What’s for dinner?”

“Potato and bacon soup,” Scientist replied as he turned off the fan and shut the window. He smiled kindly at Charlie and nudged him towards the kitchen. “There’s shredded cheese to put on top.”

“Cool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel obligated to put a disclaimer for this chapter:
> 
> DO NOT HUFF. HUFFING IS BAD. HUFFING WILL NOT GARNER THE AFFECTION OF A THIN-LIPPED SCIENTIST unless you are Charlie Kelly.
> 
> STAY IN SCHOOL, KIDS. HUGS, NOT DRUGS.


	6. Charlie learns that one does not simply walk into Mordor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay between chapters! I'm going to be concentrating on finishing this one in a more timely manner.

Four days later, Charlie had the urge to huff.

Well, technically, Charlie had the urge to huff every day. He usually distracted himself with booze or company, but he was home alone and had already drunk all the beer. It left him feeling sad – no, _lonely_ – so he slipped on his jacket and sneakers and decided to take Scientist up on his offer to drop by anytime.

He didn’t want to impose. Really. It was already getting late and nerds liked to turn in early. But Scientist did say he should visit any time he felt like huffing, and although people often said what they didn’t mean, Charlie believed him.

He _wanted_ to believe him, anyway.

Scientist was in his pajamas when he answered his door, but he didn’t look like he had been sleeping. He waved Charlie in without preamble. “Bored or sad this time?” he asked, after the smaller man had flumped onto the couch.

“Eh… both?” Charlie scratched the scruff on his jaw. “Frank was out and the apartment felt really cold and empty. ‘Course, our heater is on the fritz…”

“Well, I’m glad you came over.” Scientist sat down next to Charlie and smiled benevolently. “So, what can we do to alleviate your boredom, hmm? Look through a book? Work on a puzzle?”

“Can we do something where I don’t have to use my brain?” Charlie asked, gaze drifting over to the glass tank in which Armitage was busy running in his wheel. “I mean, I like doing that sort of stuff with you, just not tonight.”

“Of course. What did you have in mind?”

“Um… oh!” Charlie grinned at the other man excitedly. “We could play Night Crawlers!”

“Night Crawlers?” Scientist repeated hesitantly, brows lowering in confusion.

“Yeah, Frank and I used to play it all the time. You lie down on the ground and pretend you’re a night crawler – that’s a kind of worm,” he elaborated, in case the other man had some weird British word for them instead, and glanced at the back of the couch thoughtfully. “My old roommate Schmitty once suggested wrapping up in blankets first which I thought was a stupid idea at the time, but it might be worth trying. You only have one blanket out here, though, so we’d have to share it. What do you think?”

It took Scientist several seconds to respond as he was very busy looking everywhere in the room except at Charlie. “Perhaps we could watch a movie instead?” he suggested meekly, hands fluttering nervously in his lap.

Charlie shrugged. “Sure, that’s cool.” He knew Night Crawlers wasn’t a game for everybody, even if a small part of him had hoped the other man might be interested.

Scientist nodded curtly and stood up. “I’ll make us some popcorn. I’ve got several movies in the cabinet underneath the television. Go ahead and pick one.”

~*~

Scientist turned out to have a really lame movie collection. He didn’t own _Lethal Weapon_ or any of the sequels, and he seemed especially fond of foreign films Charlie had never heard of. Just the thought of having to look at subtitles made his back prickle with sweat.

He wandered into the kitchen where Scientist was giving a covered pot a good shake over the stovetop. “Find us something to watch?” the taller man asked over the sound of popping kernels.

“No,” Charlie admitted, washing his hands in the sink. He knew Scientist wouldn’t let him have any popcorn until he did. “I’m an action-adventure kind of guy, you know?”

Scientist gave the pot one more shake, then turned off the burner. “I have the _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy. That has quite a bit of adventure in it.”

“Is that the one with the kid from _Toy Soldiers_ and the guy who looks like Dumbledore?”

“The wizard’s name is Gandalf and he precedes Dumbledore by several decades,” Scientist answered. “The movies regrettably do not properly capture the tone of the books, but there are some stunning visual —“

“Dude,” Charlie interrupted. “Are there fight sequences? Characters kicking ass?” The other man nodded hurriedly and Charlie grinned. “Then say no more. I’ll go look for it in the cabinet.”

~*~

It turned out that the _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy was pretty fucking cool, even if the television was too small and the only beer in Scientist’s apartment was some frou-frou microbrew. But man, those movies were _long_. People sat in theaters for all of these?

Charlie must have fallen asleep at some point, because when he woke up the talking trees were gone and someone was gently petting his hair; he was so warm and comfortable that he almost let himself drift off again. He felt safe.

Then he yawned and rubbed the sand out of his eyes. Scientist was sitting on the far end of the couch, clinging to the armrest like he was about to fall overboard. Huh, he must have imagined the hair petting. “Hey, man. Sorry I fell asleep, what’d I miss?”

“The rest of the second film,” Scientist replied, relaxing incrementally into the cushions. “And I should be the one apologizing, it’s gotten rather late. If you’d rather crash here than head back home, I can set up the couch.”

“Really? Like a sleepover?” Charlie smiled at the idea. It’d been a long time since he stayed overnight at someone’s place without being piss drunk. “But, uh, do I have to sleep on the couch?”

“Where else would you sleep?” Scientist asked with a small smile, although he was doing that thing again where he kept looking everywhere except at Charlie.

“…uh, never mind.” Charlie stood up hurriedly and awkwardly shoved his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t about to tell Scientist that he couldn’t fall asleep unless he was in bed with someone else. “I should head home.”

Scientist nodded, disappointed. “Of course. Here—“ He hopped out of his seat and opened the door for the other man. “I just hope that being here helped a little.”

“Oh, it did! Totally.” Charlie patted Scientist’s arm encouragingly. “You’re awesome, Doc. I mean it.”

Scientist dropped his gaze, smiling like he was trying to fight his lips from turning up. “It’s no problem, Charlie. I’ll see you Saturday.”

“’Night, Doc.” Charlie headed home, huffing the last thing on his mind.


	7. Charlie takes a shower.

Charlie continued to take Scientist at his word, dropping by whenever bored or lonely, always half-expecting the other man to say he was too busy or not in the mood for company. But Scientist never turned him away.

The man did have his limits, however, as Charlie learned one Saturday evening when he showed up drenched in cheap red wine and human saliva.

“Oh, Charlie,” Scientist said, his disapproval tempered with a compassionate sigh. “What happened?”

Charlie smiled sheepishly. “We decided to host a wine tasting at Paddy’s and I learned the hard way how not to carry the spit bucket.”

“Was this just now?”

Charlie nodded, running a hand through his sticky hair and grimacing when his fingers snagged. “I didn’t want to be late.”

Scientist’s mouth turned down in distaste. “I would have forgiven your tardiness if you had cleaned yourself off first.” Charlie stepped into the living room and he rushed to shut the door and block the way to the sofa. “No, no, no. No sitting.”

“Ah, c’mon,” Charlie whined. “It’s just a little wine, I’m practically dry.”

Scientist pinched a bit of Charlie’s jacket between his fingers. “You’re _tacky_. You’ll end up like a jelly baby that’s been lost between the couch cushions. I think you should go home and change.”

The rejection, however slight, stung badly, and Charlie dropped his gaze. “Stop being so uptight, man. Just throw a plastic sheet over a chair, that’s what Mac and Dennis do when I come over and they don’t want—“

“Charlie.” Charlie hazarded a glance up, expecting Scientist to be angry, but instead the other man’s expression was gentle. “Why are you willing to stay like this?”

“I just don’t see what the big deal is,” Charlie muttered. Which was partly true – it was only wine and Charlie had been covered in much worse. More importantly, going to his empty apartment and taking a shower in his crappy bathroom and finding clean(ish) clothes to wear seemed like so much _work_. He just wanted to hang out with Scientist for the rest of the night and not feel like a gross loser.

But he couldn’t think of a way to explain how he felt without sounding like a big sap so he looked down at the carpet and didn’t say anything else.

“You could shower here if you wanted,” Scientist offered quietly. “I have some clothes you could borrow, also.”

Charlie made a sound of disbelief and stared up at Scientist, but the other man looked sincere. “You really like to keep your place clean, huh?”

“It’s not about me,” Scientist retorted. “It’s about the fact that you deserve to not be covered in boxed wine and spit.” He gestured toward the bathroom. “Go on. The sooner you shower and change, the sooner we can have dinner.”

“All right,” Charlie sighed, as if he was doing Scientist a big favor, rather than the other way around. He paused at the bathroom door. “How’d you know it was boxed wine?”

“It was an educated guess. Now quit stalling.”

Charlie slunk into the bathroom without further comment.

~*~

Charlie was not philosophically opposed to showers, per se. He just didn’t see the point of washing up more than absolutely necessary. But the water did feel nice, and the soap on the ledge had a scent that cut through the ever-present film of booze and garbage that tended to linger on Charlie’s skin.

The wine in his hair was harder to wash out, and Charlie wasn’t sure how long he had been massaging shampoo into his scalp when there was a knock on the door.

“I’m almost done!” he called out before rinsing off the suds, worried he had been taking too long.

“Take your time!” Scientist called out in return. He said something else but it was drowned out in the rush of water.

“What?” Charlie asked before poking his head out from behind the shower curtain. “Dude, I can’t hear you, just open the door and tell me!”

Scientist opened the door at a glacier’s pace, stepping into the bathroom as if trying to scoot past a crowded table. “I brought you a change of clothes and towel,” he said, lifting up the perfectly folded squares of fabric in his arms.

“Thanks, Doc.” Charlie leaned out a little to take the clothes and Scientist skittered backward, shaking his head.

“I’ll leave them here. You should— that is, your hair could use another rinse.” He set the clothes on the closed toilet lid and returned to the door. “Do you need anything else?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Charlie pulled the curtain shut and poured more shampoo into his hair, determined to get out the rest of the wine.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Scientist said, barely audible, followed by the click of the door.

~*~

“I dunno,” Charlie said as he strolled into the kitchen, fully dressed and casually drying off his hair with a towel. “They say you do your best thinking in the shower, but I couldn’t come up with anything to top kitten mittens.”

Scientist turned from the stove to reply and nearly dropped his spatula.

“What do you think, Doc?” The plain white t-shirt fit well enough, but Charlie had to roll the waistband of the sweatpants a couple of times so they wouldn’t bunch so much at the ankle. He wrapped the towel around his neck and grinned. “Am I clean enough for you?”

Scientist pressed his lips together as if he was trying to hold back a cough and nodded.

“Sorry I gave you such a hard time about getting clean,” Charlie added. “You have a nice shower and your soap smells good. I guess that’s how you smell, too? No wonder you like to wash up so much.”

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Scientist replied weakly.

“Right! I’ll get out of your hair.” Charlie left the kitchen and _almost_ tossed the towel onto a chair before thinking better of it and hanging it up in the bathroom.

He could see himself getting used to this. Maybe he should get drenched in wine more often.


	8. Charlie does Scientist a favor, Part I

The pleasant smell of Scientist’s soap wore off after a day or so and Charlie was itching to get it back on his skin. Fortunately, his frequent handling of garbage and other foul substances left him in a grimy enough state that he didn’t feel too out-of-line asking if he could use Scientist’s shower the next time he was over.

Scientist seemed more than happy to oblige, only gently chiding that he’d need to teach Charlie how to properly launder his clothes at some point. “It does no good to clean yourself if your clothes remain filthy. I don’t have an indefinite supply of sweatpants.”

“Hey, I’m not fussy. Throw me a pair of boxers and I’m good.”

But Scientist just mumbled something about checking on dinner and scuttled into the kitchen like his ass was on fire.

After that, showering became just one more thing that Charlie did at Scientist’s apartment that he wouldn’t have bothered with otherwise. But Scientist wasn’t always at his apartment – not during the day, anyway – so one afternoon Charlie tracked him down to his basement office where he was hunched over his desk, marking up papers with a red pen.

“Hi, Doc!” Charlie called cheerfully.

Scientist looked up, distracted but not entirely surprised. “Oh, hello, Charlie. What brings you by?”

“Oh, um…” The truth was that Charlie had simply wanted to hang out with Scientist, but that didn’t seem like a very good excuse. “I, uh, wanted to huff again. You know, huff it up real bad. Yeah. So I came here instead.”

“…I see.” Scientist smiled kindly. “I should be done grading these midterms soon. Then you can have my full attention.”

“So this is your office, huh?” Charlie shuffled along the perimeter of the room, sounding out the titles of textbooks that caught his eye. He poked at a hanging houseplant and squinted thoughtfully at the molecular models sitting on an otherwise barren shelf. “It’s kind of boring, man. Why don’t you put up some posters, like from _Alien_ or something science-y?”

“Charlie,” Scientist said with just an edge of impatience, “I really need to finish grading these exams.”

“Right. Sorry.” Charlie shoved his hands in his pockets and remained silent for all of five seconds. “So, if—“

“Go sit over there,” Scientist suggested, pointing to a shabby couch in the corner, “And I’ll find you something to do.”

Charlie sprawled onto the sofa and watched the other man open his desk drawer and pull out a magnetic set. “Dude! Where’d you get that?”

Scientist shrugged. “I thought perhaps you might pop in one day and I wanted to be prepared.” He stood up and crossed over to the couch; Charlie was already sitting up eagerly and making “gimme” motions with his hands.

“This is so cool,” Charlie muttered as he opened the lid and rummaged around. He lost himself in the push and pull of magnetic polarities, only looking up at a quiet but insistent knock on the open office door.

“Come in,” Scientist said absently as he continued to grade.

That Asian kid with the bowtie stepped inside, and Scientist straightened his shoulders. “Tang-See, what can I do for you?”

“I needed to talk to you about the grant, Doctor—“ He cut himself off in surprise, noticing Charlie on the couch.

“Nihao, man, what’s up?” Charlie waved.

“Hello,” Tang-See replied with a puzzled head tilt, before returning his attention to Scientist.

“As I explained to you via email,” Scientist said stiffly, setting aside his red pen and straightening his papers. “Our proposal may have been rejected, but with some alterations, we can re-submit it.”

“But we would not see any funding for another six months.” Tang-See dropped his gaze apologetically. “Doctor Harper has a research stipend he’s looking to fill.”

“So you’re going to join his lab, then?” Scientist asked, and even Charlie could tell that his tone was far from professional.

“I need to graduate,” Tang-See said, undeterred. “I can’t finish my thesis without more publishable data.”

Scientist’s jaw tightened, but when he spoke again, his voice was cool and measured. “Well, if you’ve made up your mind, there isn’t much I can do about it. Send me the paperwork and I’ll return it to the Dean.”

Tang-See nodded quickly from the shoulders up in a pseudo half-bow. “I’ll do so tomorrow morning. Thank you for understanding.” He spared a final, confused look Charlie’s way before leaving the office.

Charlie carefully returned the magnets to their container before getting off the couch and walking over to Scientist, who had picked up his pen but was still looking at the door. “I didn’t understand some of that, but did Tang-See just quit?”

“He’s switching labs,” Scientist replied absently, rolling the pen between his thumb and forefinger.

“Yeah, but he’s not going to work for you anymore?”

Scientist nodded wearily.

“Wow,” Charlie said. “He is an _idiot_. _Fuck_ that guy.”

Scientist shook his head. “I’m not thrilled about him leaving, but he isn’t—“

“No, seriously, _fuck_ him,” Charlie interrupted, his ire growing. “It is a super huge privilege to work for you. You’re the smartest guy here! Who the hell does he think he is, walking out on you?”

“Charlie,” Scientist said weakly, but the smaller man just jabbed a finger at the door, his outrage too big to be contained.

“You know what, you don’t even need him. The whole time he was in my apartment, he never talked about science _once_ , just took notes like a prissy little bitch. You are so much better than that, Doc. You _deserve_ better than that. You want me to send him a box of hornets? I’ll totally do that for you.”

“You’ll…? No. Thank you, but no.” Scientist smiled faintly. “But I appreciate the sentiment.” He looked down at his papers with a long sigh. “I can complete these tomorrow. What would you like to do now, Charlie?”

“Nuh-uh.” Charlie tugged on Scientist’s sweater, an idea popping into his head. “We’re going to do something _you_ want to do this time.”

Scientist blinked, dropping the pen from his hand. “Pardon?”

“Yeah! We can listen to classical music, or watch one of your boring movies, or whatever. I’ll do whatever you want.” Charlie knew what he would do if some jerk had quit on him and he didn’t like the thought of Scientist spending the evening feeling like crap.

“A movie does sound appealing,” Scientist admitted after a long, shrewd silence.

“There you go,” Charlie smiled.

“And pizza? I haven’t had take-out in ages.”

“Pizza is awesome,” Charlie agreed. “And you know what goes really well with pizza? Beer.”

“Yes, it does.” Scientist stood up and grabbed his coat. “We can stop by the liquor store on the way home.”

“Now you’re talking,” Charlie laughed, patting Scientist’s back as they headed out. With a little encouragement, nerds knew how to party after all.


	9. Charlie does Scientist a favor, Part II

The pizza was delicious and the beer wasn’t too fancy, but the movie was boring as shit. It was one of those films where everyone spent a lot of time talking and staring morosely into space; no car chases, no explosions, not even a cool fight scene. _Boring_. But Charlie did say Scientist could pick whatever movie he wanted, and he seemed to be really into it, enough that he didn’t notice Charlie drinking the rest of the beer and passing out on his side of the couch.

When he woke, the movie was over and Scientist was watching him with the same expression as the female lead, his eyes soft and sad and his mouth a gently sloping line. “Sleepy?” he asked quietly.

“A little,” Charlie replied with a yawn.

“You’ve got sauce in your beard,” Scientist said fondly, offering Charlie a napkin.

“Heh. Thanks.” Charlie wiped his chin. “Guess you don’t have that problem.”

“I have been told that facial hair is not a good look for me,” Scientist replied wryly. He plucked another napkin from the stack on the coffee table and methodically wiped the grease off his hands. “Would you like to take a bath? Instead of showering, that is. If you were planning to shower here as usual.”

“Uh, sure.” Charlie sat up and wiped some crumbs off his shirt, embarrassed. He must smell worse than usual if Scientist wanted him to take a bath instead of a shower. “I just add one part bleach to three parts water, right?”

“What? Charlie, _no_.” Scientist stilled Charlie’s hand with a reassuring squeeze before taking the used napkin and adding it to the pile inside the empty pizza box. “I just thought you might find a bath more relaxing than a shower. I can even draw it for you, all you’ll need to do is soak.”

A bath did sound nice, when described that way, so Charlie nodded, and Scientist quickly got to his feet. “Give me a moment to clear the table and I’ll start the water running.”

“I got it,” Charlie said, scooping up the pizza box and as many beer bottles as he could hold, not missing the look of gratitude on Scientist’s face and subconsciously puffing his chest a bit in pride.

~*~

The bath was not a chlorinated dip as Charlie had feared, but instead a veritable mountain of sweet smelling bubbles. Charlie looked incredulously at Scientist who was trying to back out of the bathroom without actually leaving.

“I didn’t realize the bubble bath solution would be quite so voluminous,” he admitted, pressing a towel and change of clothes into Charlie’s arms. “Take as long as you like.” And then he did leave, shutting the door behind him.

Charlie shed his clothes and stepped into the bath, sinking up to his neck in the pleasurably hot water. Scientist was right; it was very relaxing. It reminded him of the wetness of sewers and other slimy things without the underlying sense of shame.

But it was kind of boring, too. How long was he supposed to soak? “Doc!” he called out loudly, unsure where in the apartment the other man was.

Scientist threw open the door with enough force to have it bounce against the wall. “What is it? Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He frowned at the sight of Scientist’s wide, worried eyes. “Are _you_ all right?”

“I—yes? You were screeching for me and I thought you were injured.”

Charlie shook his head. “I always sound like that when I yell.”

“Oh.” Scientist’s gaze wandered over the peaks and valleys of foamy bubbles before sweeping up to the ceiling. “What did you want, then?”

“How long do I need to stay in here?”

Scientist blinked, gaze returning to Charlie’s face. “If you don’t like the bath, you don’t need to stay in it.”

“No, I like it fine, I’m just kind of sitting here, you know?” He gave the water a half-hearted splash. “What do you think about when you’re in the bath?”

Scientist flushed pink. “Whatever’s on my mind, usually.”

“Ah.” Charlie nodded sagely. “Science.”

“Yes,” Scientist replied quickly, a little _too_ quickly, and cleared his throat. “Perhaps I hope I’ll take after Archimedes and have a breakthrough moment.”

“Who? And sit down, man, you’re making me seasick swaying back and forth over there.”

Scientist edged towards the bath and sat gingerly on the closed toilet lid. “A scientist from ancient times. He was tasked with finding out if a king’s crown was pure gold or not. He realized while taking a bath that he could determine the density of the crown by the amount of water it displaced, and was so excited he leapt from the bath and ran through the streets shouting ‘Eureka’.”

“What, he streaked?” Charlie laughed at the idea. What a completely un-nerd thing to do! “That’s awesome. Do you think you’d do that if you discovered something while taking a bath?”

Scientist chuckled. “Highly doubtful.”

“Yeah,” Charlie mused. “You’d probably grab a bathrobe and comb your hair back first. You’re classy like that.”

Scientist laughed again, a spontaneous giggle that brightened his expression, and Charlie felt another little burst of pride. “Well, now you have something to think about, I suppose. Shall I go now?”

“Can you grab me the shampoo first?” Charlie asked, realizing in dismay that it was on a shelf out of his reach.

“Of course,” Scientist replied as he stood and retrieved the bottle. He squirted some shampoo into his palm before cursing quietly to himself. “Sorry, force of habit.”

“No need to waste it, man.” Charlie gestured to his damp hair. “Just slap it on.”

The bottle of shampoo clattered onto its side as Scientist sloppily returned it to the shelf, and he scrambled madly with his free hand to keep it from rolling away. “Ah—yes. Okay. If you don’t mind.”

Charlie shut his eyes in anticipation of the shampoo. He did not expect Scientist to smooth the thick liquid onto his head so carefully, and he _really_ did not expect the sensation of long, nimble fingers carding through his hair, massaging the shampoo into a thick lather.

“Oh,” Charlie whimpered, because everything suddenly went warm and hazy.

Scientist froze. “Sorry.”

“Force of habit?” Charlie asked weakly. Getting his hair washed by another grown man was kind of gay, but he didn’t want Scientist to stop. And barbers shampooed hair, too, right? So it was okay. Not gay at all and _please_ don’t stop.

Slowly, as if remembering how to do it, Scientist resumed washing Charlie’s hair. Charlie kept his eyes shut and sighed contentedly, nodding once when Scientist murmured for him to tilt his head back so he could rinse away the suds.

It felt like forever, but it was over too soon. “All done,” Scientist said, his voice soft and wobbly, before leaving the bathroom.

Charlie finally opened his eyes.

~*~

Between the beer and the bath, Charlie was exhausted. He wandered into the living room, dry and dressed in a faded set of Oxford sweats. “Guess I should go, man. I’m too tired to talk science.”

“I can’t send you off like this,” Scientist said, standing up. “You look like you’ll fall asleep on your feet.”

Charlie opened his mouth to protest and yawned instead.

“How about a little lie down? You can use my bed.”

“I dunno,” Charlie mumbled, even as he headed towards Scientist’s bedroom. “I know I look tired, but it’s really hard for me to fall asleep. Just ask Frank.”

Scientist sidled around him so he could enter the bedroom first. The bed was immaculately made, naturally, but Scientist quickly pulled back a corner of the sheets and rearranged the pillows invitingly. “We can read a book together. Would that help?”

Charlie crawled into bed. “I’m too tired to read,” he complained.

“Then I’ll read to you,” Scientist countered, selecting a slim novel from the nightstand. It was _Treasure Island_ , which Charlie regretted never reading before because it had pirates in it, and even though the language was stuffy, hearing it in Scientist’s British accent made everything sound better.

His eyelids grew heavy and he felt himself dozing off again, but when Scientist shut the book and started to stand, he whined and reached for the other man’s arm. “Don’t go until I fall asleep,” he slurred sleepily. “Please?”

“As you wish,” Scientist replied, and Charlie smiled before drifting into slumber.

~*~

Charlie woke the next morning with a full bladder and the warm, comfortable weight of another body pressed against his side.

Disoriented, he needed at least half a minute to remember that he was in Scientist’s bed and to realize that it was Scientist in the bed with him, arm possessively wrapped around Charlie’s abdomen (which was not helping the full bladder situation) and sound asleep.

Charlie craned his neck to get a better look; Scientist’s eyelashes were dark against his pale skin and his mouth was slightly open. It was the most relaxed Charlie had ever seen him, and he smiled a little at the sight.

Oh, man, he really needed to pee. Charlie squirmed uncomfortably out from under Scientist’s arm, not wanting to disturb him, and headed to the bathroom. It was only after he emptied his bladder and started to fully wake up that the reality of the situation dawned on him.

Scientist was not the first man he had shared a bed with or cuddled. But Scientist was not a childhood friend or a friend’s dad who was probably also his dad. Scientist was a professional, a classy nerd. Charlie was only supposed to discuss science with him and visit only so he wouldn’t huff and ruin the effects of the pills, not… not whatever this was.

Charlie remembered when Mac stopped inviting him over for sleepovers, when Mac told him only homos cuddled on the couch. And although Charlie knew that wasn’t true, he had no idea what Scientist thought on the matter.

He peeked into the bedroom; Scientist was still asleep. Charlie was tempted to get back into bed and tuck himself into Scientist’s arms, but he grabbed his coat instead and headed for the door. He’d find a way to keep from huffing for the rest of the week and visit Scientist as usual on Saturday.

Charlie felt Armitage’s beady eyes on him as he was leaving. “Don’t judge me, I’m doing the right thing,” he muttered, stepping out and shutting the door behind him.


	10. Charlie finally figures it out.

It was another three days until Saturday, and as far as Charlie was concerned, it couldn’t come fast enough.

Not huffing turned out to be the easy part; drinking more beer and working more hours at Paddy’s kept him out of trouble. It was the guilt over leaving Scientist’s apartment without saying anything that made the time drag. Maybe he should have left a note? Scientist was one of the few people who could read his handwriting, after all.

Yeah, he should have left a note.

He resolved to make it up to the other man somehow and scrounged up every last dollar and coin he could find to buy him a case of beer. Not the cheap stuff, either, but the pricey microbrew Scientist liked that tasted like stale blueberry bread. Whatever. He owed Scientist _something_.

Saturday night, he arrived on time but didn’t get an answer when he knocked on the door. He set the case of beer on the ground and knocked again, calling out Scientist’s name as loudly as he dared. “Dude, open up! I’m here to talk about science!”

No answer.

Scientist was mad at him for not leaving a note, Charlie was sure of it. He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs before knocking again, a rapid staccato that made his knuckles sore. “I know I screwed up and I’m sorry, okay? Let’s be men of reason and discuss this face to face!”

When Scientist _still_ didn’t answer the door, Charlie began to panic. What if, in addition to hating Charlie and never wanting to see him again, something bad had happened? What if Scientist had been rearranging his books and that decorative globe on the top shelf had fallen over and knocked him unconscious? This very moment, he could be lying on the ground, a host of wild rats ready to attack, Armitage squeaking in horror and helpless to defend his master!

Charlie slammed his fist against the unforgiving wood, swearing loudly and turning the doorknob in desperation.

The door was unlocked and swung open easily. Oh.

“Doc?” Charlie called out worriedly, finding the living room empty. He hurried into the kitchen and found Scientist sitting at his table for two, red-faced and disheveled, a nearly empty bottle of scotch in front of him.

Scientist was drunk. _Oh_. Charlie relaxed immediately; this was familiar territory. “What’s going on, man? You had me freaking out for a minute there.”

Scientist stared at him, slack-jawed, before letting his head drop onto the table. “ _Bugger_ ,” he moaned, as if in pain. “Oh, bugger _me_.”

“Hold that thought,” Charlie replied, dashing back to the door to retrieve the case of beer. He set it down with a rattle, Scientist groaning at the vibration. “Let me catch up to you before we start talking.”

“Wh—“ Scientist lifted his head in time to catch sight of Charlie grabbing the bottle of scotch and downing the rest in one go.

 _Damn_ , that burned. “That’s some good quality shit!” Charlie declared after a loud, painful belch. He pulled out two of the microbrews and passed one to Scientist before opening the other and downing nearly all of that, too.

“I was saving it for a special occasion,” Scientist slurred, watching Charlie as if he had just pulled off an amazing magic trick.

Charlie sat down, a pleasant buzz settling over his brain. “So what’s the occasion? I’ve never seen you drown your sorrows before.” He placed a commiserating hand on Scientist’s shoulder.  “Did some nerd girl break your heart?”

Scientist’s lip curled into a disbelieving sneer and he violently shrugged off Charlie’s hand. “What are you doing here?”  
“Dude, it’s Saturday. We _always_ meet on Saturday.”

Scientist sniffed, his prissy head-tilt undermined by a wobbly lower lip. “Didn’t think you’d come back after what happened.”

Charlie’s heart sank. “I know, I should have left a – wait. You drank an entire bottle of scotch because you thought I wasn’t going to show up?” He smiled. “No one’s ever—“

“I didn’t attempt to drink myself into oblivion just because of that!” Scientist snapped. He glared at the empty scotch bottle in front of him sullenly. “And why wouldn’t you leave, anyway? Tang-See did, and he wasn’t the first.”

“Dude, you’ll get other grad students. Can’t you resubmit your grant or whatever it was you said?”

“And do what until then?” Scientist asked harshly. “Don’t you get it, I’m the department’s cock-up. I’ve spent ten bloody years at this institution and I’m nothing more than a glorified lecturer. I never have enough funding and my research is worthless.”

“But—“ Charlie furrowed his brows in confusion. “The pills you gave me, Doc, they made me smarter.”

“They’re candy, Charlie! Little bits of candy designed to look like pills. Those insipid ‘over-the-hill’ novelty candies people give you when you turn forty.” Scientist laughed bitterly and pressed his face into his hands. “Forty years old and I haven’t accomplished a damn thing. I’m nothing but a useless failure.”

Charlie _meant_ to slap Scientist across the face like people do in the movies, but with the other man curled in on himself, the best he could manage was an open-handed whack on the side of his head.

“Oi! What was that for?” Scientist demanded roughly, sitting up and rubbing his ear.

“I’m trying to slap some sense into you!” Charlie replied fiercely, swatting Scientist’s face with both hands. His aim was terrible, but Scientist was even more uncoordinated in protecting himself, barely able to fend off the onslaught.

“Stop hitting me, you crazy little man!” he whined, kicking at Charlie under the table.

“I’ll stop hitting you when you stop saying stupid things!” Charlie smacked him one last time before scooting out of range.

Scientist glared, panting, his hair in disarray. “I didn’t say anything stupid!”

“Yes, you did! You called yourself a failure and that is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Look at yourself!” He flung his hand at Scientist who flinched reflexively. “You’re a professor, you get to do science every day, you wear nice suits and you have all your teeth. So what if none of your experiments worked? You taught me all sorts of things, you got me to stop huffing – _nobody_ has gotten me to stop huffing before. You deserve a Nobel prize for that alone.”

Scientist exhaled quietly, his expression softening. Charlie took that as a sign of encouragement and pushed his chair closer. “You put up with me, man. More than that, you _listen_ to me. So I’m not just gonna sit here while you call yourself a failure. Not—not when I look up to you like I do. You’re really great. I mean it.”

“That’s…” Scientist’s lips trembled as if holding back tears, and Charlie immediately regretted spilling his guts. But then Scientist reached out, pulling him into a warm embrace. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. _Thank you_.”

“No problem,” Charlie laughed, returning the hug easily.

“I don’t know how you did it,” Scientist babbled drunkenly as he clung to Charlie’s shirt. “You knew just the right thing to say.”

Charlie patted Scientist’s back. “Maybe those pills really did make me smarter, huh?”

“Oh, Charlie.” Scientist pulled away, smiling, and wiped at his eyes. “No, they most certainly did not.”

Charlie tried _really_ hard not to pout. “Okay, fine.”

Scientist shook his head, reaching for Charlie’s shoulders and squeezing them fondly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. Everything you’ve achieved is because of your own abilities. You didn’t need pills, just a little encouragement.”

“A little encouragement from you,” Charlie said, grinning once more.

Scientist’s hands gently kneaded Charlie’s shoulders as he leaned in closer. Charlie wondered if he wanted another hug, but the other man stopped just shy of one, his nose nearly touching Charlie’s. “Charlie. There’s… there’s something I need to tell you.”

This close, Charlie could smell the scotch on Scientist’s breath. “Sure,” he replied, his stomach twisting in a funny way that had nothing to do with drinking.

Scientist licked his lips and swallowed wetly before shutting his eyes and whimpering, “I’m going to be sick.”

“Ooookay,” Charlie sighed, that strange tension in his gut vanishing. He got up and carefully pulled Scientist to his incredibly unsteady feet. “Let’s get you to the bathroom, you are far too classy to puke in the kitchen sink.”

~*~

They made it to the bathroom, barely, and Scientist spent a good ten minutes retching into the toilet, Charlie rubbing his back consolingly and feeling rather pleased at being the less intoxicated person for a change. When Scientist’s heaves gave way to pitiful moaning, Charlie wiped his face with a damp washcloth and helped him to his feet. He made Scientist brush his teeth, too, despite his protests about just wanting to lie down. Charlie knew it was what sober Scientist would have wanted.

He was in the middle of tucking Scientist into bed when the other man tugged him underneath the covers and flush against his side. “Don’t go. Please.”

Charlie froze, uncertain. “Are—are you sure, dude? I mean, I don’t mind, but—“

Scientist just curled up against him and shut his eyes.

Charlie wiggled a little into the mattress, making himself more comfortable, and wrapped his arms around Scientist protectively. “I thought last time was a fluke,” he admitted quietly. “Not many people like to cuddle me.”

“Then they’re fools,” Scientist slurred into Charlie’s neck. “You’re warm and soft and pocket-sized. Wish I could just pick you up and carry you about.”

Charlie blushed at the kind-of-gay but sweet compliment. “You’re really drunk.”

“No, I mean it,” Scientist insisted drowsily. “Wish you lived here, too. Could spend every night like this…”

“Seriously?” Charlie whispered, but Scientist merely snuffled and snuggled closer, already asleep.

He wasn’t even tired, but Charlie shut his eyes anyway and let his thoughts wander while he held Scientist close.

~*~

By the time Scientist staggered into the kitchen like a zombie with a migraine, Charlie was almost done making breakfast. “Morning, Doc!” He waved with the spatula before flipping over a pancake.

Scientist hissed and shut his eyes. “Too loud,” he whimpered.

“Oops, sorry,” Charlie stage-whispered. “Go ahead and sit down, I’m almost done.”

Scientist shuffled to the table, which was already set with a generous platter of bacon and eggs. “You made all this?”

“Yeah. I was going to make a grilled Charlie, but you don’t have any peanut butter. Too bad, it’s a great hangover cure.” Placing the last pancake on a towering stack, he turned off the stove and brought the serving plate over to the table. “This is probably just as good, though.”

“I don’t know if I can eat anything,” Scientist grimaced. He picked up a glass of orange juice and sipped tentatively, a little color returning to his face.

“You should try, you were seriously shit-faced last night.” Charlie forked a couple of pancakes and plopped them onto his plate.

“Yes, I know.” Scientist sighed uncomfortably and reluctantly helped himself to some bacon. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

Charlie shrugged. “I’ve seen far worse, dude. _Far worse_. I’m just glad I was here to cheer you up.”

“Me too,” Scientist murmured, smiling softly despite the pinched look of pain on the rest of his face.

“And hey,” Charlie added, drowning his pancakes in syrup, “After I’ve moved in, I’ll be around to cheer you up whenever you need it.”

Scientist paused with a forkful of bacon halfway to his mouth. “After you’ve what?”

“Moved in,” Charlie repeated. “You said last night that you wished I lived here.”

“I did?” Scientist set down his utensil and frowned in confusion. “I don’t remember that…”

“Yeah, it was while we were cuddling in bed. You said—“

“We were _what_?” Scientist asked sharply before wincing and bringing a hand to his head. “Oh. Oh, no. I don’t remember anything after being sick.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, it was fine!” Charlie said reassuringly, perhaps a bit too loudly, because Scientist made a soft sound of despair and covered his eyes with both hands. “No, really. And it gave me a lot of time to think about things, and I figured out why you like having me around so much.”

Scientist peeked at him through his fingers. “You did?”

Charlie nodded. “Yeah. You want to be my mentor.”

Scientist slowly lowered his hands, and Charlie couldn’t tell if the other man was relieved or disappointed, but at least he didn’t look like he wanted the ground to swallow him up anymore. “A mentor.”

“Yeah! Like they had in ancient Greece. Or maybe they still do, I dunno. But anyway, you already act like my mentor. You teach me stuff and make sure I’m okay. And when we’re roommates, you can do all of that even more.” Scientist gave him a funny look and Charlie looked away, suddenly bashful. “I mean, if you still want to be roommates. Maybe you don’t think that’s such a good idea anymore.”

“No,” said Scientist quietly, “I… I’d still like that. For you to live here.” He coughed. “But as you know, I only have one bedroom.”

“So? Frank and I share a bed, it’s no big deal.” Charlie cut up his pancakes with a forced nonchalance and added, “And I’m sure mentors and mentees cuddle all the time, it probably helps the learning process. So if we ended up cuddling again, it would be completely normal and not weird at all.”

Scientist didn’t say anything, just stared at his bacon, and it took all of Charlie’s willpower (and a ridiculously large bite of pancake) to not fill the awkward silence. But finally the other man looked up, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “No, not weird at all then.”

Charlie beamed. “Awesome. So when can I move in?”

~*~

A week later, Mac was standing outside Scientist’s door. His expression fell when it was Scientist who answered, not Charlie. “Hey. Is Charlie ready to go?”

“Hello, Mister McDonald,” Scientist replied politely. “He is. Would you like to come in?”

“Sure,” Mac replied, squaring his shoulders and stepping inside.

Charlie was leaning against the couch and lacing up his sneakers. “Almost ready,” he said, looking up and smiling at Mac.

“What time will you be back?” Scientist asked the two men, grabbing Charlie’s coat from the closet and holding it out so Charlie could slip into it.

“I don’t know, I didn’t realize we were on some sort of time-table,” Mac replied, giving Scientist an unpleasant look.

“Tonight is lasagna night,” Scientist said primly. “But I’ll make something else if you’re keeping Charlie out past dinner.”

“No, I’ll be back by six.” Charlie zipped up his coat, oblivious to the tension in the room. “But Mac and I might get some soft pretzels. Is that okay?”

Scientist chuckled at Charlie’s puppy-eyed expression. “Of course, just don’t spoil your dinner.” He ruffled Charlie’s hair affectionately. “Have fun.”

Charlie grinned and ducked his head. “See you later, Doc.”

“Bye, Charlie. Goodbye, Mister McDonald,” Scientist added, his tone the cooler side of polite.

Mac pointedly did not reply as he followed Charlie out the door. “That was gay,” he informed his friend once they were outside.

Charlie snorted and shoved his hands into his pockets, searching for the gloves Scientist got him. “Whatever. You’re just jealous you don’t have a mentor who makes the best lasagna in Philadelphia.”

“Super gay,” Mac replied. “I’m surprised he let you out of the apartment.”

“Where are we going, anyway?” Charlie asked, changing the subject.

“That martial arts exhibition I told you about. My sensei is going to be there.”

“That guy you’re taking karate lessons from?” Charlie asked. “Is he going to smash a bunch of boards with his fists?”

“Charlie, I told you. Karate isn’t some sort of flashy spectacle. It’s about discipline and inner strength. Sensei taught me that.”

“Is _anybody_ going to be smashing a bunch of boards with their fists?” Charlie said hopefully.

“Yes, probably. Tell you what, you watch that while Sensei has me try on some different training outfits.” Charlie started snickering and Mac glared at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” Charlie smiled. He was glad Mac had found a mentor of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everyone who joined me on this fun, incredibly self-indulgent journey.
> 
> And yes, I am writing a sequel.
> 
> It will not be G-rated.
> 
> ;)


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